Gardens of Paradise
by The-Beauty-And-The-Book
Summary: A young Loki finds himself falling in love, only to have his love ripped from him, and so begins his ascent to the God of Mischief, the silver-tongue and the liar. But can love save him again? Rated M for eventual smut. **DISCLAIMER** I do not own any characters in this story aside from my OC's. In some parts I have followed the script of the films, which I do not own.
1. Erudition

**A/N:**

 **So, I'm writing my first Thor/The Avengers Fanfic, and for the purposes of ease, I will be referring to the gods' and goddesses' ages in human terms. If anyone thinks this should be changed, please give me your feedback and tips on how to mark this accurately.**

 **Thanks!**

 **TB &TB xox**

 **Chapter One: Erudition**

He was seventeen when he bumped into her.

Quite literally.

They'd crashed into one another and tumbled down, landing in a heap on the floor. Thor had laughed loudly.

Pushing himself up, he was met with the brightest blue eyes that were clouded with horror. She was quite clearly mortified. He stood and raised an eyebrow as she stared at him, open-mouthed, her mop of red curls falling over her face.  
"I- my... my lord, I beg your pardon." She stammered, bowing her head. "Forgive my lack of observation." His mouth quirked into a smile and he responded cooly.  
"You are excused." She stood up quickly and curtsied and then charged back the way she came. Loki let out a snort and turned to his brother, who wore an amused expression. "Not a word, Thor."  
"Brother-"  
"Not. A single. Word."  
They continued on their way, and Loki peered back over his shoulder, staring down in the direction she had vanished.

He had never seen someone so beautiful in all his life, despite knowing that many would think her plain, and he aspired to discover who she was immediately.

It didn't take long. Sat in the library late that afternoon, his nose buried in yet another spellbook, and his back pressed against the shelves as he sat on the ground, his ears twitched at the sound of footsteps and he raised his head, frowning. Save for the servants who occasionally graced the vast space filled with books to remove the dust, Asgardian's other than himself were seldom in there. His eyes fell on her - she had dropped to her knees and was scrubbing the floor vigorously by hand, her hair tied up in a sloppy updo, the odd wisp falling over her forehead. So, she was a maidservant. He smirked, knowing full well that she was aware of his presence, but was attempting - in vain - to ignore him. He could see out of his peripheral vision the way her eyes occasionally darted up to take in his form. Being the mischievous boy he was, he decided not to approach nor look at her directly. No, he would simply wait for her to reach him. He had his books and a lot of time, his brother was busy sparring with his friends and discussing kingship with their Father, Odin, and their Mother, Frigga, was busy planning an illustrious ball in honour of her eldest son's impending birth celebrations.

When she finally reached his feet, he heard her gulp nervously and resisted the urge to chuckle, instead lifting his face from his book again and watching her intently. She paused after realising that she would need to wash the place he was currently sat and shakily pushed her hair out of her face. She licked her peach coloured lips and cleared her throat.  
"My lord Prince," she breathed wobbily, so audibly afraid that it made him grin, "I am instructed by my superior to clean the entire floor. Would I be too bold to ask you to vacate so I could..." she took a breath again, her voice quivering, "...complete my duties?"

Now, Loki knew that he could be nice and simply move for her, but he was enjoying the emotional torture a little too much. He allowed his face to turn cold and his voice to be stern.  
"You dare to speak to a Prince of Asgard without his permission?" He enjoyed the way her eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her head. She looked at him fearfully. "That is twice you have done such today." He took in the way her shoulders shook, her hands, blistered and red from scrubbing, clasped in her lap, and she bowed her head quickly, not daring to look at him any longer. He chuckled aloud this time, noting the way her face twisted in confusion, and yet she still did not lift her head to meet his gaze. "Your name?" She stole a glance then, if a fleeting one.  
"My name is Eir-Iðunn, my lord." He raised an eyebrow.  
"You are named after the godesses of healing and youth?"  
"Yes." His lips twisted upwards.  
"And pray tell me, what brings you to the Asgardian palace?" Her breath hitched in her throat then, and he noticed a stray tear fall from her eyes, which she quickly wiped away.  
"My... Father was in battle... for the All-Father." She whispered. "He died with honour, and the All-Father took pity on my Mother and I, allowing us our own living quarters in exchange for our service." Loki scowled at the mention of King Odin.  
"Your Father died protecting the All-Father?" She nodded slowly and Loki finally shifted his position so she could clean. She did so in silence as he continued to survey her. His eyes scanned her from head to toe, dancing down over her wild red hair, pale freckled face, eyes that were tired and worn beneath them, and perfectly plump peach lips, her body - which was still underdeveloped for an Asgardian girl her age - was clothed in a simple maidservant's gown, and her hands that were sore and weeping from the blisters caught his attention once more. He sighed. "I think that will be quite enough, Iðunn." She stilled and looked up at him, her brow furrowed, causing her blue eyes to almost vanish beneath them.  
"My lord?"  
"Cease your cleaning, child." He saw her eyes fill with fear. "Worry not," he murmured quietly, "I shall see to it that no trouble befalls you for finishing before you were due. Who is your superior?"  
"Erling of Fyrisvellir."

Loki frowned. He knew of Erling, the son of a nobleman. He had been cast out of Fyrisvellir by his family, having desecrated the sacred temple of Uppsala with his toxicity and slander of the gods. He was banished to slave under the rule of Odin in Asgard, and though he was held with disdain by many, his hard work had earned him the All-Father's favour, and he was soon given a position of power over the servants of the palace. Upon knowledge that Eir-Iđunn had ended her duties prematurely, he would surely chastise her in a manner most foul. Fortunately for the young girl, Loki was far above Erling, both in position and physical stature. Erling was a short, round fellow with a red face that looked permanently angry, his blonde curls feigning innocence. No, Loki would see to him on the matter of Eir-Iđunn.

"I will speak with him. Now," he stood and extended his hand to her, "Arise, we will scour the shelves together and find you something to read so that you might rest." She hesitated at his outstretched hand, but with another sharp look from the Prince, she obliged, taking his hand and allowing him to bring her to her feet. Loki ignored the warmth that spread through him at her touch, and released her, turning and marching along the rows of the bookshelves. She followed behind him quickly, her eyes never once leaving the back of his head. He could sense her nerves... her confusion. He knew she was frightened but dared not question him. Stopping, he pondered the shelves and retrieved a text from their place. It was one of his favourites, speaking of the magic and mystery of the nine realms. He held it out to her. "Here. Take it. Read it, let it's words fill your mind." She looked at the book and then back to him and sighed.  
"Your kindness is appreciated. But I... I must confess something, my Prince." Loki tilted his head to one side and gazed at her.  
"What ails you?" She breathed in and wrung her hands together, wincing as she caught a sore spot.  
"I cannot read." For the first time in his life, Loki was surprised. Even the lowliest of people in this realm knew how to read, she was the first he knew of who could not.  
"Very well. I shall have to teach you." He replied coolly. Her jaw almost hit the freshly cleaned floor in response.  
"My lord! I am afraid I must decline, I have services I must perform-"  
"And I will see it done that you are released from these services so that you may learn from me." He cut her off smoothly. "You are dismissed. We will begin your studies tomorrow, at dawn." And with those words, he turned on his heel and left her, staring after him, the book still clasped firmly in his hands.

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

Loki watched her closely as she tried to make sense of the words, her frustration evident on her face.

Frustration, actually, was an understatement.

She was close to tears, trying in vain to distinguish between the letters and the clusters of them that somehow held a larger meaning. For once in his life, Loki pitied another soul. He couldn't imagine his life without books, now that Thor was too busy with his training to take the throne, and to think that Iđunn couldn't enjoy them made him woefully sorry for her. He realised that his love of books gave him a soft spot for the lowly young woman, but he was neither naive nor blind, he knew there was something else there - he was attracted to her. Every part of him wanted to pin her down and take her where she was, but there were certain rules to adhere to in society. Forcibly taking a woman's innocence for your own was greatly frowned upon, and Loki didn't particularly find the notion very fair. She had a right to choose when and whom to give her delicates to, and Loki, as carnal as he was, knew that the last thing he needed right now was a lover.  
He needed a friend.

"Iðunn." Her eyes snapped up at him.  
"Yes, my lord?"  
"How do you fair?" She blinked at him a couple of times and then sighed and placed the book in her lap.  
"I cannot do it, my Prince." He frowned, and much to the surprise of the both of them, found himself sitting on the floor next to her, his legs crossed and his shoulder pushing hers.  
"Let me show you. And stop that." Her brow furrowed in confusion.  
"Stop what, my lord?"  
"That." He responded. "Just call me Loki."

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

Two years had flown. Two years and he had opened up entire new world's to her and their friendship had blossomed. They had become inseparable, Loki found himself yearning for her company whenever night fell. He spent every waking moment with her, to the chagrin of Erling and her Mother, who Loki now realised was not a woman he liked, nor did he like her around Eir-Iđunn. She was a cruel-spirited and harsh woman, and for the first few weeks of their friendship had hounded Iðunn relentlessly, feeding her lies about Loki and doing all she could to break their fast-forming friendship. Loki had made a point of shaming her in front of his own Mother, Frigga, and for once Frigga agreed with his actions. Embarrassed, Eir-Iðunn's Mother had stopped meddling and let them be, though she still gave Iðunn a hard time behind closed doors. A few times Eir- Iðunn had been sat with the Prince and he'd seen the tears she was trying to hide behind her books. Today was no exception.  
"Iðunn ." He was sat opposite her and had been studying her closely. Her face was flushed and there were fresh tear tracks on them. She hadn't realised he was watching, too busy staring at the book. She hadn't turned a page for the last fifteen minutes. "Iðunn." He repeated and she finally looked at him. "What troubles you?" He didn't really need to ask, but he knew she wouldn't bring up the subject herself.  
"I don't wish to talk about it, Loki."  
"Well, I do." Placing his book down, he took hers from her and then sat by her side again. "What has she said now?"  
"How do you know it's about her?" Frustrated that she wasn't going to admit to him that her Mother was hurting her again, he found himself turning towards her and cupping her face in his hands. He didn't fail to notice the slight hitch in her breath and that her pupils had dilated slightly, but he ignored it.  
"Because you have nothing else to be upset about." Her blue eyes were watering again. "Oh, come here." He sighed, wrapping his arms around her. Had anyone seen the display of affection, they would surely have been mortified. It was already strange to many that the Prince and the maidservant were so close friends, but to have them physically touching in such a manner was something else entirely. Fortunately, Loki knew that nobody of importance would step foot in the library, and he intended to keep it that way.  
After a few minutes of silence as she composed herself, he finally found it in him to speak again. "What are you reading?" She sniffed a few times.  
"Midgardian Flowers." She mumbled. He smiled to himself. She was fascinated by Midgard, particularly the plant life.  
It was her sixteenth birthday soon, and Loki hoped to make it a memorable one, and to somehow bring a little piece of Midgard to her. He would have to query his ideas with Heimdall, as much as he detested the fellow's loyalty to his King, he was nevertheless a great and useful asset to the Kingdom, and at this particular time, he would be useful to Loki.  
"Shall we go to the grounds for some air? It is quite suffocating in this heat." He suggested. She sniffed once more and then nodded, wiping her tears on her sleeve. He smiled and helped her up, scooping up their books and slotting them under his arm, and they walked in quiet, Eir-Iðunn sniffing occasionally and Loki frowning each time that she did. How he hated to see her like this.

The air was cool, despite the sunlight and the humidity, the breeze was welcome on their skin. As they walked, Loki observed her sad face and decided he had had enough. "Are you going to tell me what she said to you?"  
"Loki-"  
"I cannot bear seeing you like this." He snapped, taking her by surprise. "I have no friends, Iðunn, none but you, and I do not wish for you to hide matters from me. Now tell me what she said!" She stopped walking and faced him, her eyes alight with pain.  
"I will not tell you. This is private, Loki, and I implore you to question me no more." He scowled at her, but said nothing, keeping his eyes locked on hers. She blinked for a moment and then sighed, turning away from him. "Very well. My Mother thinks you are a terrible tempter and she wishes to keep me locked away from you." She was surprised when all he did was laugh. "Why is this so amusing to you?" She demanded, planting her hands firmly on her hips. "Loki! Tell me why you laugh!"

"Oh, my dear Iðunn, she is under the services of the All-Father, do you not realise that even if she wants to keep you away, she cannot without his word?"

"But she has been convinced so by Erling that it would be in our favour to do so, and if anyone can convince Odin it is him. She will not listen to reason." Loki snorted.

"Erling." He scoffed. "He is a foul little man. Worry not, I shall speak with Frigga." For the first time that day, Iðunn smiled.

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

Erling of Fyrisvellir was not happy. He had spent two years waiting until he could snatch Eir-Iðunn back out of the hands of the Prince, but he had so far had very little luck. He had 'befriended' the young woman's Mother, even though he disliked her intensely, because they had a common purpose: neither were prepared to let the young Asgardian out of their clutches. Her Mother, Borghildr of Asgard, was a formidable woman, her tongue was venomous and her eyes were hard and cold. According to her, the death of her husband was of no great trouble to her. After all, it had given her a place in the palace, and under Erling's command she was given an easy life, all the work had been shouldered off on her young daughter, but now she had to work to earn her place, seeing as Prince Loki had taken her attentions away. And so an alliance was formed between the pair. They would leave this place in the dead of night and steal her away with them. Erling smirked at the thought. He had neglected to tell Borghildr that his intentions towards her daughter were anything but pure, he was not merely concerned for her well-being with the trickster god, but his thoughts had strayed to the way she was growing and developing. He ached to touch her young body, to the point that abandoning his post in the balance seemed a deliciously devious and attractive idea.

Yes.

He would steal her away and bind himself to her, and get rid of Borghildr in the process.

Everything was coming together beautifully.


	2. O Mother Dearest

**Chapter Two - O Mother Dearest**

Loki sat on his bed, legs crossed and his nose buried in another book, this particular one on apparitions. His brow furrowed, he held his hand out, focusing so hard that he had a headache, trying to will an apple to appear. After several minutes of attempting to produce the fruit, he gave up in frustration, roaring loudly and hurling the book across his bedroom. There was a dainty knock and he almost spat furiously.

"Go away!"

Whoever was at the door ignored him and as he heard the door creak open he whirled around furiously. "I said go- oh."

Frigga smiled at him and quirked an eyebrow.

"You are troubled, my son." Loki sighed and flopped back down on his bed like a child.

"I have a headache." Frigga's brows knitted together.

"Shall I fetch a healer?" He waved his hand in the air, dismissing her response.

"Oh, Mother, such melodramatics." Frigga would have barked with laughter if she hadn't been such a lady.

"I do believe you are the one being melodramatic." She spotted the book and waltzed over gracefully. If there was one thing Frigga never did, it was walked. She waltzed, she danced, she glided. She did not walk.

Scooping the book up in her hands, she neatened the crumpled pages and closed it, and a small smile graced her lips at the title. "Apparitions." She murmured, moving back towards his bed and perching on the edge of it. "I struggled with these, too." That statement peaked Loki's interest and he sat up quickly.

"You can apparate?" She smiled at the childlike wonder in her youngest sons eyes and before he knew what was happening, there was another Frigga by his side. His jaw dropped as her double vanished the moment he laid eyes on it, and he, for once, was lost for words.

"There are many things I can do, my dear. Where do you think you get your love of magic from? You are not the only mischief maker in this family." She laughed. Loki liked her laugh, it was musical and light, like the first sounds of spring. "Just don't tell your Father." She giggled cheekily. He grinned and then her face became more serious. "Something else ails you, Loki, I can sense it." His grin faltered and he sighed.

"It is nothing of importance."

"I would not call the maiden girl 'nothing of importance.'"

"Mother-"

"Do not dare to lie to me, Loki. I have often observed the way you gaze upon her. You are in love with Eir-Iðunn Asksdóttir, are you not?" Loki groaned loudly.

"She is wonderful, it is true, but what place has she with I? I, a Prince of Asgard, and she a Maidservant. How can we ever be?"

"She is the daughter of a nobleman-"

A _dead_ nobleman, Mother. Her Father died for Odin and she is reduced to nothing but a slave."

"She has had her freedom for two years, my son, you saw to that."

"And yet Borghildr and Erling wishes her bound, I can do nothing." Frigga's lips pressed into a thin line and she stood calmly and moved to leave. "Where are you going?"

"I have business with Erling of Fyrisvellir." She opened the door and turned back one last time. "Fear not, my son." The door closed softly behind her, and Loki found himself smiling, feeling at peace. He chewed his lip thoughtfully, and then picked up the book on apparitions, another book of Midgardian flowers resting at his side.

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

"Mother-"

"Do not 'Mother' me, girl!" Borghildr shrieked, hurling the book at Eir-Iðunn's head, missing narrowly. "What is this _filth_ he has indoctrinated you with? You wish to live in another realm? Do you? You wish to run away to Midgard with that dirty rodent of a man?"

"How dare you speak that way of your Prince!" Iðunn sobbed, tears seeping down her face.

"My Prince?! _My Prince?!_ You ungrateful child! You disgust me, you wretched girl, fawning over him like the harlot you are." Eir-Iðunn heard the slap before she felt it, her face jerking to one side at the contact. "He is no Prince of mine. Erling was right, he is poisoning you."

"What has Erling to do with this?" She heaved, her skin turning red and burning where her Mother's hand had made it's connection.

"Erling has treated us kindly and you throw that in his face, running around with that inbred." She spat. "You will not go near him again, do you hear me? Never again!"

"You cannot do this!" Her daughter sobbed, her fists clenched at her side. "He won't stand for it, Frigga will not-"

"Don't you _dare_ speak to me of Frigga!" Borghildr's voice rose to a colossal shriek that pierced the air and caused Iðunn to wince. "It is because of her wretched son that your Father is dead and we rot here in this squalor!"

Eir-Iðunn felt that it would be unwise to point out that their living quarters were far better than their old home, and so she remained silent. "If your Father were here, he would not stand for this insolence!"

"If Father were here he would tell you to quiet your tongue!" Iðunn slapped her hand over her mouth and her eyes widened as Borghildr's face turned a shade of beetroot, her eyes bulged and her nostrils flared like an Ox'.

" _What_ did you just say to me?!"

"Mother, I- I'm sorry, I was not thinking-"

"No, you _were_ thinking. Thinking of _him._ "

Iðunn did not sleep that night, because there was not one part of her body that did not scream with pain.


	3. Of Blood and Sunshine

**Chapter Three: Of Blood and Sunshine**

She had not felt so furious in all her centuries of living. She had a raging and angry disdain for Iðunn's Mother, finding the woman cruel and self-absorbed in a way she had not encountered in many a year. She was not blind: she saw the abrasions on Iðunn's skin, despite the rapid healing rates of the Asgardian race, and though she had hoped that Loki may have noticed, she was doubtful, as he held hatred for Borghildr, but had never had ill-will towards her. She knew if her son had even began to suspect the abuse Iðunn endured, he would have demanded her Mother be vanquished.

Frigga also suspected Erling's involvement, though how she knew not. She had nothing other than a distrust of the ill-tempered servant, and no proof of his cruelty other than his association with Borghildr. Despite the lack of grounds to attest to such behaviour by either she or Erling, Frigga knew one truth – that her gut did not lie to her. The feelings of discomfort and worry swirled in the pit of her stomach like a great sickness threatening to relieve itself of her body, and she knew only that should she approach Odin with her claims, that despite his scepticism, he would listen to her. She was, after all, known for her precognition.

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

He was enraptured.

She was stood facing Heimdall, her eyes alight with wonder as the all-seer described to her of life on Midgard, of greenery that stretched far only to end with vast expanses of water that was undrinkable or cities that towered high and greyed the skies with their filth and smoke – Heimdall called it 'pollution' – that they were killing their realm with their selfishness, and yet some remained who were fighting for the green of their home, their 'earth', and that as many trees that were felled were being replaced, that where there had been death new life sprang forth in the same moment, as a Midgardian's life was torn from them that an infant was birthed, such was the cycle on Midgard, the inhabitants lifespans all too short for the wonders of their world. He told her of their penchant for keeping animals, usually hounds or felines, not in enclosures in gardens to be viewed, but in their homes as though they were family akin to children, of women who wore trousers that were not for armour but for their regular dress, of lands made entirely of sand and others entirely of snow and cold, not dissimilar to her hearings of Jotunheim, though Midgardians seemed wise not to inhabit such a space. And though Loki himself was disgusted by the mortal beings mistreatment of their home, he could not find it in himself to scoff when he gazed upon the beauty of her face that was so enthralled by the workings of an inferior realm.

And he was utterly besotted with her. His Mother had been right to say that he loved her. The mere sight of her was enough to send shivers of delight down his spine at the thought that she might return his sentiment in kind. Today was the sixteenth anniversary of her birth, and he had called upon Heimdall to describe to her the more ignorant of the Nine Realms, of who she had such a love, and ever grateful of the gatekeeper's time, Loki promised he would return later with mead and boar from the meal they were to share.

They departed as the sun was descending, the soft golden hue lighting the blades of grass in the gardens as though they had been set aflame, Eir-Iðunn humming with an obvious cheer that warmed him more than the sun. He led her to a clearing and then bid her to halt, and she looked at him in confusion.

"Loki, why must we stop? Evening is upon us and I must return before Mother realises I am gone." Despite Borghildr's demands that Iðunn was to forgo her time with the young Prince, Loki had coaxed her away for her nameday, insisting that he would ensure Borghildr would not miss her daughter's presence.

"I have one gift saved for you, then we shall return with haste, I assure you." He grinned, reassuring her. She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes, her nervousness at the reaction she was sure she would receive upon her return stealing some of her joy. "Watch." Focusing, Loki willed with all his might, arms outstretched, and there before her the grass became flowers, thousands of the coloured buds and petals surrounding them and all of them modelled after Midgard. She gasped, her eyes filling with tears, as she took them all in her sight, squealing and naming them in delight as she jabbered away to him, her joy overflowing. After several minutes, he felt his focus wane and he ceased the illusion, his mind drained, but pleased with her reaction. She turned to him and swallowed.

"You did this for me?"

"Yes." She seemed choked on emotion and he was worried for a moment.

"Why?"

Loki felt he needed no answer, instead opting to pull her close and in the gentlest way he knew, he met her lips with his own. She sighed and leaned into him, her hands clasping at his tunic tightly, as though to let go would be a sin. His hands found their way to her hair, his fingers raking gently through her unruly scarlet curls, only parting from her when both were sufficiently deprived of air.

They walked back hand-in-hand, Loki pressing another soft kiss to her lips before she entered her chambers and risked being seen, and bade her goodnight. She giggled and turned from him, a beaming smile lighting her pale features, and only when she closed her door behind her did he scowl. He was happy, blissfully so, but he had noticed something he had not before.

On her arm, just at the crook of her elbow, was a gash, no bigger than his thumbnail.

It had yet to heal.

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

Odin, weary in his age, glared down upon them, four of them, all stood before him in a quarrel brought unto him by his wife, who remained at his side.

Loki, Iðunn, Borghildr and Erling, three overcome with anger, and one quivering, a single line of blood running from their temple.


	4. Let Me Look At You

**Chapter Four: Let Me Look At You**

Erling glowered furiously at the Queen, her face calm, but he could see it in her eyes. Her fury.

Her vulnerability.

"All-Mother," He sneered, his deep, gravelly voice practically dripping with venom, "to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?" Her face remained unmoved, but the slight wince in her shoulders gave her away. She was struggling to control her emotions. He grinned toothily, his canines and molars sharp and dirty. He licked his lips sloppily, the resounding smack of his lips causing Frigga to wrinkle her nose in disgust, before returning to her previous demeanour.

"I wish to know of your intentions with Eir-Iðunn, Erling of Fyrisvellir. And it would bode you well to speak honestly with me, lest I feel it would be warranted to speak with my husband of this matter." He snorted loudly.

"Matter? What _matter_ , Frigga? There is no matter here than what you have falsified in your own mind."

"Need I remind you that I possess the ability of foresight?"

"Yes. Most _women_ ," he snarled, "would seem to think they are in ownership of such a quality. It is a rather fanciful thing," he stepped towards her menacingly, but she stood her ground, although her forehead did crease slightly, "that you would honestly believe I have any ill-intent towards the girl," he circled the All-Mother like a vulture, "after all she is my _charge,_ under my _care._ So pray, enlighten me, my Queen," he stopped, his mouth by her ear, his body so dangerously close to hers that she could smell the scent of bile on his breath and feel the malice radiating out of every pore in his fat body, "what harm could I possibly seek to bring to her? Perhaps you ought to concern yourself with more pressing matters concerning Lady Borghildr's only daughter, such as your son's extremely ill-advised interest in a lowly servant girl." Frigga finally lost her stance and turned sharply in his direction, her nose a hair's breadth from his own, her teeth bared in a snarl reminiscing that of a wolf's, her eyes glinting threateningly.

"It would do you well to leave my son, _your Prince_ , out of this matter."

"He has already concerned himself with it, Frigga."

"You are fortunate that I have not approached Odin himself." Erling barked with laughter.

"And you would approach him with what? This folly of a Prince and a maid? Come now, that would not stand in the realm of Asgard, it is a most absurd notion. As I am sure, _Princess_ ," he growled her previous title, that no one had uttered to her in centuries. She glared at him. "You very well know. After all, a servant has no place in the throne room of Asgard. But by all means," he stepped back and bowed low, a gesture that Frigga was certain was a mockery, "Do send my regards to Odin All-Father." He chuckled, and then whirled on his heel, striding away, a yellow-toothed grin plastered over his round face. Frigga waited until he had left her presence, and then smiled, her hand clutched around the parchment she had retrieved from his pocket, crumpled and worn, but thankfully, no ink had smudged.

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

Iðunn whimpered as her Mother stood over her, hands clutching the hooded cloak that matched her own and Erling's, who was watching, arms folded, smirking. She hated him, hated his robust, unflattering frame, hated his disgusting grin that carried all the toxins of Hel, hated his thinning curly hair, hated his cruel grey eyes, hated the way he leered at her when he thought she wasn't looking. She wasn't foolish to his intentions. She just could not comprehend how her Mother felt this was right.

"Stand up, girl!" Borghildr barked, and Iðunn flinched.

"Y-you cannot do this," she stammered for, she was sure, the thousandth time since they had announced their plans. "Please, Mother, I beg of you!"

"Get up. _Now._ " Came the hissed response.

They were going to take her away. Flee Asgard in the dead of night, and there was no doubt in her mind that it would be her death. They obviously had not thought out properly what they were to do should she decline to co-operate.

"No." She curled up even more. " _No._ I refuse... you cannot force me to go." Borghildr snarled and lunged for her daughter and she jumped away, shrieking. "If you dare to touch me, I will scream!" That was when Erling was before her, he had moved at such speed she had barely seen him move.

"Then scream away, you disgusting little _baulufotr_ , not even your Prince can hear your harlot's cry. He will not save you from this."

"I beg to differ." Erling spun quickly to face Loki, but with one fell swoop, Loki had cuffed Erling's temple with a throwing dagger, Borghildr screaming as a stream of blood poured out onto her floor.

"You have killed him! You have killed him, you treacherous snake! I will inform Odin, you murderer." Loki just smirked, flicking another dagger up in the air and catching it over and over.

"Now, now, aren't we a little old for tattle-tales? Besides, he is not dead, just in shock. I am sure he will be perfectly fine to face Odin at your trial in an hour or so." Borghildr's face paled.

"My trial?" That was when Frigga emerged, smiling gently at a dumbfounded and terrified Iðunn, then turning her attention back to the rasping matriarch.

"Yes. It would appear that Erling was somewhat careless in concealing your plans." She held the parchment up, balancing it delicately between her slender fingers. If Borghildr became any paler, she would have seemed to have been drained of all blood.

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

"Erling of Fyrisvellir." Odin's voiced boomed, and Erling trembled before him, his blood dripping off his face and leaving spatters of red on the marbled floor. "Borghildr of Asgard." She was seething, her anger steaming into the air like smog. "Your actions amount to a careless disregard for the life of your people, that you would treat your own child with such hatred is a disgrace to everything that Asgard stands for. You have betrayed your daughter, your duties and the trust of your King. You have befouled the name of Asgard and your evil holds no place within it. You are hereby banished to the outskirts of Hel, doomed for all eternity. You will plead at the gates to enter, you will beg for the sweet release of Death, but Lady Hela will not oblige you. You will wander a desolate wasteland, alone and lost with no one but one another and your own selfish poisons to live on... if you do not murder one another in the same cold-bloodedness with which you treated the one who was entrusted to you." His one eye flickered to Iðunn and he gave a small, almost unnoticeable smile. He slammed his staff to the ground, the guards swarming then to drag away the accused, Erling hung there limply, staring at the ground, forlorn and ashamed and afraid. Borghildr, however, kicked and screamed and cursed, thrashing about furiously. "Silence her!" Odin called, and a guard slammed the butt of his sword into her head, knocking her out cold.

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

"Let me look at you." Loki murmured, tilting her head in his hands and brushing the hair from her face. He had been helping her transfer her belongings to her new chambers, courtesy of the All-Mother, who had taken pity on the girl, with the only requirement that her payment would be lessons in etiquette and needlework from the Queen, to which Iðunn readily agreed. Frigga had taken the liberty of allowing the yound maiden's chambers to be down the hall from Prince Loki's, and they were more comfortable than anything she had ever experienced in her short life. As of yet, no one knew for certain of her romance of Loki, many suspected, but no one was sure. Frigga, though aware of their feelings for one another, did not yet know that they had begun their 'trysts', despite a lack of physicality between them other than mere kisses.

He scowled at the bruises at her hairline, almost as though they had been placed to be hidden. Eir-Iðunn winced as his fingers skimmed over a particularly tender spot and he leaned down to kiss it softly. Her breath quivered in a mixture of pain and excitement, curling herself up to him and gazing up at him adoringly. He drank in her features again like he was seeing her for the first time, from her porcelain skin that betrayed the pink blush that looked like it had been painted upon her, her soft coral lips that tempted him so, the delicate apricot freckles that marred her skin and travelling down her neck and across her collarbone, disappearing under her dress that led him to the most sinful thoughts of where they might lead, and again at her beautiful sapphire eyes that had become more precious to him than any gem in the entirety of the nine realms.

He leaned into her again to caress her lips gently with his own, her quiet gasp spurring him, one hand slinking on to her lower back and the other grasping her chin in a manner so gentile that she was sure he thought he might break her. He leaned her back and deepened the kiss, gently probing with his tongue for her to let him in. She obliged, wrapping her arms gingerly around his neck. She whimpered and winched when he accidentally touched a sore patch on her back and he rested his forehead to hers and sighed. "We will wait for you to heal, Iðunn. I cannot bear to hear your cries of pain."

"Yes, my lord." She responded. "I look forward to it."

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

 **A/N**

 **Hi! I hope you're enjoying this so far! I've tried to be a little more inventive with my dialog in this chapter, I even looked into some insults in Old Norse, so to clarify, 'baulufotr' means 'cow foot.'**

 **Rate, Review, give me some points so I can improve!**

 **Much love,**

 **TB &TB xox**


	5. Take It All

**A/N**

 **Sexy times ahead. You have been warned!**

 **Chapter Five: Take It All**

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

 _ **Two Years Later**_

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

His incessant roaring was driving Loki insane. Whilst Loki had known for quite some time that Thor was to be crowned King of Asgard in Odin's stead, he honestly did not believe for a single moment that his older brother was ready for it. He was not stupid, however. Whilst Odin and Frigga continued to insinuate that both his brother and himself were equally as likely to take the throne, he knew their favour was with Thor: the mighty warrior, the bearer of Mjolnir, the Thunder-God, versus Loki: the silver-tongue, the mischief maker, the Trickster-God.

Because that was all his magic was to everyone else. Tricks. He was not the powerful god or the skilled magi, he was the Trickster-God. They did not see his skills for what they truly were – talent, cunning, cleverness, magic-prowess. He was smart, and yet they degraded him by giving him the title of a trickster. Frigga was more understanding, but her own skills were hidden and waning, lack of use causing her focus to have become rusty. Had she revealed her charms, he was certain Odin would have branded her something less desirable than a Queen. At a push, he could see the one-eyed ruler abandoning her totally. Divorce, he imagined. He could understand, then, why Frigga would keep something so close to her chest.

And then there was Iðunn. Sweet, beautiful Iðunn. Now eighteen, she had grown into a spirited girl with as much charm as Loki had allowed to rub off on her. She was fierce and brave, no longer the timid mouse-like creature she once was, her demeanour was coming close to rivalling Sif's, and yet she was no warrior. She detested battle, detested war. She had told him that on Midgard, they would call her a pacifist. He didn't see why she felt she had to draw parallels between the realms to make him understand, but he accepted her views nonetheless, especially because he had no intention of allowing her even within smelling distance of a fight. She was no fighter, and he liked that.

It meant he could protect and care for her.

Their 'affair' had become a passionate one, hidden and secretive and deliciously devious. She had been hesitant to hide it at first, but he knew Odin. Iðunn would not be allowed to remain in the palace another minute if Odin caught wind of their relationship, so they told no-one, not even Queen Frigga.

As the relationship progressed and they became more enamoured by one another, she had told him in no uncertain terms would she give herself to him carnally until she was eighteen. It was difficult for him, but he respected that, and even when potential maidens were flaunted before himself and Thor, the ever-persistent urges of Odin to see them take a wife, he resisted. Thor would walk away laughing, another Lady hanging off his arm, and occasionally he would take one back to his chambers and emerge the next day with a victorious grin, a red face and his blonde hair ruffled that meant the God of Thunder had enjoyed a night of amorous congress, and then he would say 'regretfully' that she was not to his liking – and still, in the face of Thor's arrogance and tales of commixtion, Loki continued to withhold himself. There was no doubt that many a beautiful woman had been offered to him, and for the sake of keeping up appearances he had toured many of them around the grounds, but had always found an excuse to off her – no mater now petty. Her hair was too dark, she didn't appreciate his intelligence, she was rude to his Mother, (that one was a legitimate excuse - she hadn't made it past breakfast) she was too spoiled, she only wanted to marry him because of his title – and so he continued to string out his excuses until the King and Queen eventually stopped calling on suitors for him when it became apparent that he was not going to choose one. Thor continued to entertain frequent guests, Loki noticed this seemed to bother Lady Sif, a mixture of sadness and fury in her eyes whenever Thor bragged of the way he had made another lucky woman howl, all the while completely oblivious to the hurt on Sif's face. Loki was grateful he never had to see Iðunn in such a state, she would send him soft smiles, a playful glint in her eye even when another woman held his arm, knowing that he only had eyes for her.

And tonight he would finally have her. He would cherish her in the way he could only have ever dreamed, and tomorrow he would watch the Coronation of Thor and remain happy, he already had his Queen, and now, if all went according to plan, the Coronation would not go ahead at all.

He had not bothered to mention to Iðunn his plans. Not that he thought she would tell a secret, he knew he could trust her implicitly, but there was one small problem he had with loving her.

She could talk him out of anything.

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

Iðunn cursed quietly again as she managed to catch her fingers with the needle for what felt like the tenth time in the quarter hour she had been sat with Frigga. She had become a skilled seamstress, and could craft the most beautiful things, her favourite so far had been a gown in emerald green that she had embroidered ornately with golden flowers – 'chrysanthemums' as the Midgardian's called them – and she cherished it dearly, but kept it well hidden with it being in Loki's colours, she felt that would make things rather too obvious and complicated, and yet today she could not focus at all for the thoughts that he would be peeling it from her body were almost too much. Frigga frowned at her and then sighed softly.

"Iðunn, something troubles you. You are usually most deft with your fingers but today you appear to be all thumbs." The scarlet haired woman looked to her Queen and mentor and sighed, placing her materials and needles down and crossing her hands in her lap.

"I am afraid I feel unwell." Frigga smiled.

"Then go and rest, we needn't do this everyday."

"You know I enjoy it so, my Queen. I would not miss a single day. But I really do feel most peculiar."

"Then you may take your leave." Iðunn stood and bowed her head graciously.

"My Queen." She left. She had not lied, she really did feel unwell. Unwell with nerves. He would know her tonight.

Frigga waited until the door had closed behind the young maiden and then laughed quietly to herself, but spoke aloud.

"Ah, Loki. I am afraid you will be the death of her."

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

She fidgeted nervously, wringing her hands and pacing backwards and forwards quickly. She had been doing so for the last hour, trying to keep her wits about her. For all her courage, this frightened her. They had been emotionally very intimate for so long but this was something else entirely, she was going to give him her body and he would give his to her, and yet she knew he would be more experienced than she. She knew he had not been intimate with another woman, much less one of the snotty-nosed woman that laughed like it was strained and cooed over him like a child, but there was no doubt in her mind that he would know exactly what to do.

The knock on her door startled her and she hurried to answer it, pulling him in by his sleeve and closing the door and bolting it quickly. "Did anyone see you? No guards? No Thor?" He didn't reply and she turned to him, frowning. "Loki?"

He was staring at her, his jaw slack and his pupils had dilated almost completely.

"What are you wearing?" She blushed as she remembered.

"I made it for you." She replied softly, and his green eyes snapped up to meet her blue ones, then he was striding over until he stood in front of her, and allowing his eyes to follow all the lines of the dress, before focusing once more on the curve or her waist and the perk of her chest before he rested on her face again.

"They are my colours." His voice was hoarse, she noted.

"Yes."

"The flowers?"

"Chrysanthemums." She murmured and he nodded once in approval.

"Very nice." He sighed, finally reaching out for her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her into him. "Very, _very_ nice." Pushing herself up on her toes, she met his lips and closed her eyes, her hands fisting the material of his tunic tightly. He responded slowly, tentatively, as if he were afraid of scaring her, but tightened his grip on her back slightly, then grinned into the kiss wickedly as he slid his hands lower and gently squeezed the tender flesh of her bottom beneath the fabric. She gasped and pulled back slightly, her eyes wide and her moth hanging open as she stared up at him. He furrowed his brow, briefly fearing he had taken things too far too soon, but his fears were quietened when she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him fervently. He returned her vigour and she let out a quiet cry as he squeezed again, and she dipped her head to kiss his neck, the God of Mischief groaning and leaning his head back to grant her more access, her hands going to his hair to comb her fingers through it as she claimed his throat with her lips.

" _Please_."She breathed against his skin between kisses.

"'Please' what?" She stopped her actions and he held back a growl of frustration as she searched his eyes and licked her suddenly very plump lips, not realising the slight flick of her tongue was driving him mad.

"Please... undress me." She whispered, and his mouth twisted into a smirk.

"As you wish, my Lady." He turned her so her back was towards him and he swept her hair over one shoulder, pressing his mouth gently to the one that was now bare, and he deftly began to undo the line bright golden buttons that adorned the entire length of the gown, from the bottom of her perfect, slender neck to the floor itself, and he found himself admiring her craftsmanship. She was indeed very talented. His eyes swept over the skin of her bare back as more of her was revealed to him, slowly, tortuously. Her skin was as pale as he had always imagined, the freckles that coated her face and neck also had their home on her back, the skin smooth like alabaster. He realised that during his observations of her back that the dress had loosened enough that if he were to let go now, it would pool at her feet and she would be completely bare before him. She seemed to have realised this, as her breathing had become heavy and shaky, the tension sparked and crackled in the air around them that had become thick and weighed altogether too much upon them. He held fast to her dress and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. "Iðunn, if you are nervous, we need not-"

"Release it." She said. It had barely been a whisper, so faint, and yet he heard her, allowing the silky green fabric to slip from his fingers, and it landed with an almost silent kiss of the carpeted floor. He sucked in a breath as his eyes wandered over her, from the immaculate curves of her shoulders in to her waist and back out to her hips again, which broadened to accommodate her beautiful round behind that had not a single imperfection. He stepped close enough that her back pressed against his chest. She tilted her head back to kiss him once more, her tongue breaching his mouth to dance with his and he found his hands had roamed her skin, only noticing he was toying with her breasts when her back arched and she broke the kiss to whimper and squirm in delight. He growled low and spun her, pushing her up against the locked door and attacking her neck with his lips, one hand sliding lower until her felt her wetness coat his fingers, and he stopped his ministrations on her neck to watch her face when he felt her dig her nails into his shoulders, gripping him tightly. Her head was tilted back, pressed against the ornate surface of her chambers' door, her eyes screwed shut and her mouth forming a perfect 'O' as he found the delicate bundle of nerves between her legs and he circled it daintily. Her breaths became faster and she moved her hips in time with his fingers until her eyes popped open and she pushed his hand away, panting.

"Take them off." She snarled, eyeing his body. He chuckled and gripped her chin between his fingers.

"And when does the maiden make demands of her Prince?" He teased. She smirked then, pressing a hand against the very prominent bulge in his trousers, and he moaned.

"When it is in his best interest to oblige." She whispered, but squealed in shock when he was naked with the flick of his wrist, his erection standing proud before her. He had given her no time to adjust to seeing his body and she was shell-shocked at the suddenness of it all. Grasping her hand, he half-dragged, half-led her to the bed and hoisted her onto it, leaning over her.

"I doubt you would want this against the door. At least not tonight."

She smiled and shook her head, grasping his length in her hand and grinning at how big his eyes became. A strangled noise escaped his throat when she began to pump him slowly, gazing down at him in wonder as the tip of him seemed to mushroom and disappear again with each stroke of her hand. She trembled and let out a squeak when he slowly pushed a finger inside her, both of them quivering at the others touch. He added another digit as gently as he could whilst she was teasing his length, and he groaned at how slick she felt around him, beginning to move his fingers in rhythm with her own hand. He could not describe the ache that was pulsing through his shaft but he knew this would be over all too soon if they were continue as they were, especially when she was writhing and whimpering beneath him. He removed his fingers from her and pulled her hand away from him and she immediately sighed loudly and pouted at the loss. He smiled tenderly and positioned himself between her legs, rubbing his tip along her slick folds, her hot wetness oozing slowly. Leaning down once more to kiss her, fisting her hair he slid himself inside her slowly, her eyes rolled back in her head and she instinctively bucked her hips, earning a moan from the god. He hiked her legs up, urging her to wrap them around his waist and then rocked into her gently, encouraged by her gasps and moans, only picking up speed once he had reached full hilt in her. His thrusts became harsher and she yelled in pleasure with every slam of his hips. He was grateful that he had had the sense to place a silencing charm on her chambers when he first reached her door, because he knew that the moment he had stepped inside the thought would have slipped his mind. He was growling and panting with her, each jolt of their bodies sending shock waves of pleasure straight down his length, burying himself in her as far as her body would allow. She was returning his thrusts quickly, and he felt her shudder and release against him with a scream, her nails biting painfully into his back which triggered his own liberation, his hot seed spilling into her as their thrusts subsided and their bodies intertwined, his shaft still encased inside of her.

He heard her sigh that she loved him as he began to doze off, and in his peaceful haze, he smiled and returned the sentiment in kind.


	6. The Taste of Regret

**Chapter 6: The Taste of Regret**

Loki awoke to the feel of her arms wrapped around him, her naked breasts pressed against his chest and her legs entwined in his own. Her curly red hair stuck out in all directions, some of it falling over her perfect oval face. His heart skipped a beat at the thought of their love-making and he sighed contentedly, pressing a kiss to her head. He felt himself stiffen against her thigh and smirked to himself, but then his stomach churned when he remembered what today was and how important it would be.

Thor's coronation.

Loki's deceitful alliance with the Jotuns.

He had told no-one, not even his beloved, who lay so serenely in his arms. She would have been mortified.

But no matter, his plans had been meticulous. No-one was to be harmed. The Jotuns had no clue who he was, he had come to them under a guise as a lowly servant of Asgard, miserable and hell-bent on the downfall of Odin, convincing them to take back what was rightfully theirs.

The Casket of Ancient Winters.

He felt her stir and his thoughts returned to her, gazing at her as she stretched and blinked sleepily, her drowsy grin warming his heart.

"Good morrow." She mumbled, leaning over to peck his lips.

"How do you fair?"

"I am well."

"Are you sore?" She found herself blushing and he smiled at how comely it looked on her.

"A fraction." She giggled, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Why do you ask?" He bit his lip devilishly at the hint in her voice and moved, balancing himself over her, his cock stretching and throbbing.

"Because, whilst I would not wish to leave you wanting," he chuckled, stroking himself slowly, her eyes brightening at the sight, "I would not wish to harm you, either." He straddled her chest and gripped her hair, guiding himself to her lips. "Now, drink." He commanded, and she took him into her mouth, her cerulean crystal eyes locked on his face. He was thrusting into her mouth slowly, the feeling of her hot lips and tongue fellating him forcing a guttural moan from his throat. "Just think of all the things my tongue will do to you soon." He gasped as she flicked her tongue over his head in response, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she attempted to smile. "Oh, you are a temptress, Iðunn, toying with your Prince like this." He hissed, his grip on her hair tightening as he felt his orgasm approaching. She moaned around his length and he shuddered. "By the Norns!" He groaned, his marrow spilling down her throat, of which she drank almost greedily, licking her lips and smirking when he released himself from her with a wet pop.

"Did that please you?" She inquired, and the laugh that escaped him sent a flush to her cheeks.

"Very much so." He lowered himself down, kissing down her chest and stomach, hooking her legs over his shoulders. "Allow me to return the favour." She bit her lip in anticipation, but they were both startled out of there trance by a loud thundering on her door.

"Lady Iðunn!" Thor's voice boomed, and she looked to Loki in a panic. He smirked, and with a flick of his wrist, they were both clothed and immaculately presented. Merely an illusion, of course.

She scurried to the door, opening to the God of Thunder, who bore an expression of concern.

"My lord Thor, to what do I owe your presence?"

"I came to inquire upon the whereabouts of my brot- ah, Loki! There you are." He strode into the room upon sight of the younger Prince, completely failing to notice that the bedsheets were in dissaray. Iðunn's face paled at the sight and she looked worriedly to Loki, only for him to grin and wink at her. "Come brother, we must prepare!"

"I would not have thought you would have need of me, Thor." Loki chuckled. "After all, Mother has seen to it that everything is in order for your _special_ day." The jibe seemed to surpass Thor completely, who beamed and clapped his brother on the back, whilst Iðunn's brow furrowed at the tone her beloved used. "Aye, but I wouldst have you by my side when I am crowned." Loki smiled almost sickly at him.

"Very well. Allow me a moment with the Lady before I join you, she is helping me tailor my garments for today's celebrations." Thor grinned and turned to Iðunn.

"With a teacher such as Mother, I imagine she will produce nothing short of splendour. I will see you within half an hour at your chambers." Thor swept out of the room, his cape billowing behind him. Iðunn closed the door and almost instantly she returned to her previous state of undress. She turned to an equally naked Loki, who cupped her face in his hands.

"Where were we?" He leaned in to kiss her, but she held up her hand quickly.

"Pray tell me what that was?" He raised an eyebrow and chuckled.

"The bedsheets? Darling, he is an oblivious oaf, he did not even glance at them."

"I was not referring to the bedsheets, Loki. The way you spoke of his coronation today was bordering on venomous." His grin faltered and he sighed, releasing her.

"Thor is not ready to be King."

"That is not your choice to make. Odin has made it himself, Thor is to be crowned. He will make a fine King."

"He is a fierce warrior, but he is no King! He is a brute who cannot see past the end of his own nose." Loki scoffed, his anger rising at the way she defended his brother.

"Why are you so against him? Are you not pleased for him? He is your brother."

"He will not be wise or just, he thinks only as a warrior but not in the best interests of the people."

"And you think yourself a better fit for the position?" She argued.

"Yes!" His voice was loud and angry, she flinched and he sighed. "Yes. I think myself better." She softened at the sudden look of sorrow on his face and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"But you realise you would be his most trusted advisor, his second in command? There is none that he holds in higher regard than you, not even your parents or the Warriors Three. He loves you. He may not be level-headed, but you can be the voice of reason."

"And if he grows to become level-headed? What of me then?" He muttered, his head resting against her shoulder.

"You will still be a Prince of Asgard. And no matter what, you will always be King to me. I love you, Loki."

He gripped her to him tighter as her words penetrated his thoughts. She was right, and he was already regretting his actions to see Thor's reign end before it began.

But nothing could be done to stop it now.

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

 **A/N**

 **Okay, so this is just a filler chapter before I get into the nitty-gritty, I'm sorry it's so short! Hope you like it.**

 **TB &TB xox**


	7. Lay Your Hand On My Shoulder

**A/N**

 **So this one is a bit longer! I've stuck more to the movie script in this one, occasionally chopping out some parts to make sure I can fit Iðunn into it, but overall I'm pretty happy with this chapter!**

 **Enjoy!**

 **TB &TB xox**

 **Chapter Seven: Lay Your Hand On My Shoulder**

The sound of cheering filled the halls of Asgard, the joyous cries of the people echoing off of the pristine golden walls, townsfolk who normally did not grace the palace unless they had a quarrel to be settled lined the walls, crowding the enormous throneroom. Loki's heart sank with every step his brother took down the hall, who was making loud shouts of jubilation, Mjolnir raised in the air, basking in the glory that was to come. Frigga snorted and rolled her eyes at his brash beheaviour, but nevertheless her pride for her eldest son shone out of her face.  
"Oh, please." Loki heard Sif laugh, shaking her head at her friend and soon-to-be King. The affection for him still carried in her voice. Odin's face remained stoic and unmoved, but his one good eye flashed with amusement and love for his firstborn.  
Eir-Iđunn was the only one who didn't give Thor so much as a glance, instead her gaze focused readily on her lover, a warm and comforting smile sent in his direction. Loki would have felt reassured, had he not given away Asgard's secrets to the enemy. He smiled weakly at her, knowing she would take it as his disappointment at their choice to crown Thor over him. She wore the dress he had so hungrily removed from her body the night past, knowing full well that the looks she received for wearing his colours both confused and fuelled the rumours that were already spreading of them both. Let them spread, the truth would be known soon enough, after all, he had every intention of wedding her. She just did not know it yet.

Thor approached the throne, and Loki, sensing the walls had been breached, began to feel sick with nerves. But he could do nothing. Any show of concern or any action taken now would implicate him, and he couldn't have that. He blocked out half of Odin's words so he could hear the beasts. Their footsteps. Thundering. Harsh. They were not the most stealthy of creatures, after all. He was certain Odin would catch onto them soon, and he turned his attention back to his Father and Brother, who had the stupidest grin plastered on his face, it made Loki feel all the more ill. King Thor indeed.  
"Thor Odinson, do you swear to guard the Nine Realms?"  
 _More like fight them._  
"I swear."  
"Do you swear to preserve the peace?"  
 _Not likely._

"I swear!"  
"Do you swear to cast aside all selfish ambition..." Loki snorted quietly. "...and pledge yourself only to the good of all the Realms?" Thor raised Mjolnir again.  
"I swear!"  
"Then on this day, I, Odin All-Father, proclaim you..." Loki felt the cold before he saw it, and his eyes locked fearfully on the All-Father, who had trailed off and was surveying the halls, ice creeping across the bannisters. "...Frost Giants."

All hell broke loose, the people screaming as Thor turned and ran down the hall, Sif and the Warriors Three tearing after him, their weapons drawn. Loki followed, but a hand caught his wrist. He turned to Eir-Iðunn's fearful eyes on him.

"Loki-"

"Iðunn, I must go with them."

"I won't let you go without me." She cried, clutching his sleeve as the people around them ran in chaos. "I won't let you get hurt."

"You must stay here." He stressed.

"But Loki-"

"I said stay!" He snapped, wrenching his arm from her and running after his brother, as she watched him forlornly, unaware of Odin and Frigga's eyes on her, before Odin followed his sons.

Odin arrived to find his sons, Sif and the Warriors Three, staring at the burnt and dishevelled remains of the Frost Giants slowly melting into the ground, the Casket in the hands of the Destroyer. Odin removed the relic from it's hands and it set itself back to the chamber from whence it came, as Odin placed the Casket atop it's stand.

"Father, the Jotuns must pay for what they have done!" Thor boomed. Odin turned, remaining calm and solemn.

"They have paid with their lives. The Destroyer did its job, and the Casket is safe. All is well."

"'All is well?!'" Thor cried in disbelief. Loki gave a subtle eye-roll. The Warriors Three shifted uncomfortably and Sif squeezed her eyes shut. As much as they adored Thor, his blatant disgust at his Father's words made them uneasy – no one else would have dared to speak back to their King in such a way. "They broke into the Weapons Vault! If the Frost Giants had stolen even one of these Relics-"

"But they didn't." Odin cut his son off smoothly.

"I want to know why they-"

"The Casket of Ancient Winters belonged to the Jotuns." Odin interrupted him again. "They believe it's their birthright."

"And if you hadn't taken it from them they would have laid waste to all the Nine Realms!" Loki wondered if Thor would ever stop arguing with his Father. He was proving himself too brash and arrogant, his haste would ruin him. The thought stirred the slightest happiness in him, though guilt soon followed.

"I have a truce with Laufey, the Jotun King." At the mention of Laufey's name, Loki shuddered. He remembered him. He was a terrifying monster of a being. His silver-tongue had somehow earned him the Frost Giant King's grace and favour, if under a ruse.

"He just broke your truce!" Thor bellowed. "We must act!" Odin sighed wearily and commanded Sif and the Warriors Three to vacate. They bowed respectfully and turned on their heels, exchanging glances with one another. Odin scrutinised his son, his next question turning in his mind, the answer to which would dictate his son's worthiness to take his place as the All-Father.

"And what action would you take?"

"March into Jotunheim as you once did, teach them a lesson, break their spirits so they'll never dare try to cross our borders again!"

Odin's heart sank as he realised his eldest was still but a boy. He was artful in war, but his lack of wisdom left him wanting.

"You're thinking only as a warrior!"

"This was an act of war!" Thor replied angrily. Loki groaned internally. His older brother's love of battle was certainly clouding his judgement.

"It was an act of but a few, doomed to fail." Odin found that Thor was testing his patience, his resolve to remain calm was wavering, his frustration at the pride in his son cutting him to the core.

"They got this far!"

"We will find the breach in our defenses. It will be found, and it will be sealed."

"As King of Asgard-" Odin's blood finally reached boiling point at Thor's words. "-I would-"

"But you're not King!" Odin spat. Thor's mouth clamped shut, gritting his teeth and glaring at his Father. Loki sucked in a breath, his heart flipping in joy that Thor's Kingship was denied, but nonetheless afraid of his Father. "Not yet." Odin's tone was softer, more sorrowful. Thor, furious, stormed away, thunder roaring overhead and lightning crackling across the quickly darkening sky. Odin watched after his eldest, and then smiled weakly at Loki. Loki said nothing, just held his gaze, his mouth pressed into a thin line. "Go to your brother." Odin placed a hand on Loki's shoulder. "He will be in need of your counsel." Loki nodded, tight-lipped, and turned to go after Thor, but not until after he sought out Eir-Iðunn first.

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

The Queen watched as Odin followed after their sons, her gaze turning back to her youngest son's closest companion. The people had vacated, but Iðunn remained rooted to wear he had so cruelly and harshly left her. She knew not what had been said, but she knew from the look on their faces that Eir-Iðunn was concerned and Loki was frustrated by this. She approached the girl, her eyes taking in the beautiful gown adorning her nimble body. It was a masterful piece of seam-work, Frigga never having seen something of such craft from someone so young.

"That is a most beautiful dress." She said softly. Iðunn turned, sorrow in her eyes. She smiled meekly.

"Thank you." Her voice was quiet. Frigga raised an eyebrow and tilted her head to one side, in a way very much reminiscent of Loki himself.

"It is in his colours." The way that Iðunn's face pinked did not escape the wise Queen's notice.

"Yes." She made no excuses. There was no reason to, it would only worsen things.

"You have known my son." Frigga deduced. Iðunn's mouth dropped open and Frigga bit back a grin. She had known for some time that it was going to happen. She did not need to see into the future to know that they were involved with one another. The young woman was of the age and Loki loved and cherished her in a way Frigga had always hoped he would a maiden.

"I-"

"You need not say anything, child." Frigga took her hands and smiled comfortingly. "You will make him a fine wife." The girl's blush stained her face even more.

"Wife?" Frigga's brow furrowed ever so slightly.

"He has not suggested it?" She shook her head in response and Frigga sighed.

"I see. I would have thought he would have mentioned it before bedding you." The embarrassment on Iðunn's face was beginning to amuse her and she indicated the doors. "Come, let us walk in the grounds and discuss this further. And fear not," She cupped the red-headed woman's face in her hands. "I will see to it that Odin approves of this courtship."

If only it had been so simple.

Odin was furious. He was already infuriated with his eldest for his pig-headedness, and now his youngest was having an affair with a servant girl. Despite Frigga reminding him of his duty to the girl in the wake of the loss of her parents, who was after all the daughter of a nobleman, he was less than convinced that this would be a fine match.

"I will not allow it, Frigga! She is not worthy to join him in the throneroom."

"She is as unworthy as I was, Odin, and yet you married me." She retorted. Odin squinted.

"You are one of the Aesir. She is lowly."

"She is of noble blood." Frigga argued, the bite in her voice betraying her.

"Do not let your emotions for her cloud your judgement. You are supposed to be wise."

"And you are wise? They are in love Odin, have some belief in the sentiment of it!"

"Sentiment has no place where the throne is concerned." Odin barked.

"And yet you married me though you did not love me and neither I, you." She hissed. He winced. "Our parents forced out marriage despite my love for- for-"

"You will not speak of _him_ in my presence!" Odin rounded on her. "You will not push his betrothal to a servant because of your own dalliances with one!"

"And you will not tear them apart the way your parent's did us!" She shrieked. Her voice calmed somewhat, and was softer, but there was still a shiver of anger in her words. "They took the one I loved from me to marry you, and though I have grown to love you, I will not allow you to do the same to my son."

"My word is final on this matter." Odin sneered. "I will not acquiesce your request out of love for you as my wife. I must do what is right as King." She narrowed her eyes at him and snorted, turning and walking from their chambers. "Where do you go?" He questioned.

"I will take another bed tonight." She snapped, the door slamming closed behind her.

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

Loki found Iðunn on the balcony of her chambers, staring up at the dark sky as the lighting signalled the fury of Thor. He leaned against the door frame watching her, unaware of his presence as he had entered her chambers so quietly.

"Thor is unhappy." He sighed, and she jumped, spinning to face him, her hand resting against her chest.

"Loki!"

"You are upset?"

"No, no. You gave me a fright, is all." He smiled and came to stand by her side, surveying the grounds. "What was said?"

"Thor is not yet King." She glanced at him.

"And this pleases you." He ran a hand through his hair and was silent for a moment.

"I thought it would, but I feel guilt." He said glumly. She frowned.

Why would you feel guilt? You did nought to-" Her face paled and she swallowed. "What did you do?" His head fell into his hands and he groaned. Her voice quivered as she spoke. "The Jotuns."

"How do I fix this?" He cried. "What have I done?"

"How... how could you?" She squeaked. He looked at her mournfully.

"I'll understand if you no longer care for me." He sighed. She shook her head wildly.

"Never. I am just... I am shocked. Your behaviour! And after what your Mother said-"

"What has Mother to do with this?" He said, surprised. She shuffled nervously.

"She knows." She muttered. He stared at her in disbelief.

"Could this day get any worse?"

"Loki, she is pleased for us."

"But what if Odin finds out?"

"She is appealing to him for us."

"She is _telling_ him?"

"Y-yes, but-" The sound of Thor roaring loudly and what could only be a table of food crashing to the floor sounded, and Loki growled.

"I had better see to him." He brushed passed her and she followed.

"Loki." She sounded so frightened that he turned back to her, taking her hand and kissing her palm, holding it to his face.

"I will be back shortly, darling."

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

Loki entered the great hall to see his brother, Sif and the Warriors Three. Thor sat, his hands crossed over knees, his face red with fury. Volstagg was despairing over the food, his rotund belly mourning at the eatables scattered and splashed on the marble, whilst the others were too busy making jokes at Thor's expense in an effort to appease him. He sat at his side and studied his face. "It's unwise to be in my company right now, brother." Loki grinned and nudged him. "Who said I was wise?" "This was to be my day of triumph." Thor sighed. Loki shrugged. "It will come." He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "In time." The cogs in his head turned. They needed to make peace with the Jotuns to salvage the damage he had done, but to demand to go there himself would be far too suspicious. He needed Thor for this, although sceptical of how Thor may react to the Jotuns, he had faith in his silver-tongue that he could diffuse any situation they may find themselves in. Feigning concern, he spoke. " If it's any consolation, I think you're right. About the Frost Giants, about Laufey, everything. If a few of them could penetrate the defenses of Asgard once, who's to say they won't try again. Next time with an army?" Thor snorted. "Yes, exactly!" "But there's nothing we can do without defying Father." He replied, watching Thor with baited breath as he considered Loki's words, and then the twinkle returned to his eye and a grin spread across his broad face. "No, no. Stop that! I know that look!" Thor stood and Loki followed quickly. "It is the only way to ensure the safety of our borders." "Thor, it's madness!" "Madness? What sort of madness?" Volstagg quipped. Loki smirked internally whilst his face played dumb, because, just like that, they were headed to Jotunheim.

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

Loki marched into her room and she looked at him hopefully.

"It is resolved?"

"Almost." He grinned. "We leave for Jotunheim in a hour."

"Jotunheim?!" She squealed. "Loki! Are you mad?" He chuckled at how she had unintentionally mirrored his words.

"Worry not, my love." He kissed her quickly. "We will be safe."

"If you are going, then so am I." She gathered her skirts quickly and hurried after him as he left her room and headed for his own, no doubt to retrieve his armour. He laughed at her.

"You will do no such thing."

"I refuse to be left behind to ponder and worry on your return! I am going so that no harm will come to you." She grasped his arm for the second time that day. "You will heed me, for once, Loki Odinson!" He was surprised to hear the rage in her voice and looked down at her scowling face. "You will not leave me to fret again!" Upon seeing that nothing would change her mind, he sighed.

"Fine. But you will need more suitable attire." She grinned.

"I'm sure you can conjure something up for me."

An hour later and Loki and Eir-Iðunn met them by the observatory, only steps from Heimdall. Thor and the others frowned at Iðunn's presence.

"What is she doing here?" Sif snorted. Iðunn glared at her.

"What? You're the only woman allowed on adventures?" She replied icily. Loki smirked and Sif glared at him, stepping forward to retort, only for Fandral to lay a hand on her shoulder.

"What Lady Sif means," he said, "is that all of us are trained in weaponry and are skilled warriors. We worry for what might happen to you should battle occur." She eyed him, feeling Loki's gaze on her, watching for her response.

"She need not be concerned for my well-being." She replied smoothly. "I have been led to believe that if you are all sensible beings that there will be no need to fight with the Jotuns." She folded her arms. "So, if a fight _should_ break out, that would give me reason to assume that none of you know how to negotiate beyond the drawing of weaponry." She turned her attention to Thor. "Or will there be bloodshed this day?" Not many people could make Thor uncomfortable, but his face stained slightly red at the harsh gaze she fixed him with. He did not know Iðunn all that well, but he knew her to be sweet and kind, he had not seen this fierceness in her before, and it unnerved him. He cleared his throat.

"I have no intention of seeing blood spilled." She nodded once and looked to Loki.

"Now what?" Loki was grinning from ear-to-ear, his lady's sharpness towards the group delighting him. He addressed them.

"Keep your weapons sheathed and your mouths closed. This is going to take subtlety and sincerity, not brute strength. Leave it to me." As he approached Heimdall, Iðunn followed, catching a remark make by Hogun in the process.

"It would seem she has inherited your brother's silver-tongue. She spends too much time with him." He muttered to Thor. She stiffened and turned back to him, her eyes hardening.

"Is there a problem?" His face coloured and he shook his head quickly.

"No, my Lady."

"Oh, don't let her faze you." Sif spat, turning to Iðunn, her features softening. "Look, we know you care for Loki, that much is obvious," Iðunn considered it a miracle she didn't turn a lovely shade of crimson, "but don't let him deceive you into believing him a good man." Eir-Iðunn tilted her head to one side.

"He rescued me from my tormentors, Sif. I owe him my life and I trust him implicitly."

"Trust?" Volstagg cut in. "He is the God of Lies, Iðunn." She tensed and looked to Thor.

"Will you not defend your brother?" Thor looked sorrowful.

"They are right. I love my brother, but he is the God of Mischief as well as lies." Her mouth hung agape and she shook her head.

"Whatever happened to loyalty?" She spat, spinning away from them and approaching her lover. They followed suit, exchanging dark and concerned glances. She was well under his spell.

"Good Heimdall-" Loki began, only for the Gatekeeper to cut him off.

"You're not dressed warmly enough." The tension in the air could have been sliced with a blade, the seven of them looking to each other nervously. Loki did not appear too perturbed.

"I'm sorry?"

"The freezing cold of Jotunheim. It will kill you all in time, even Thor." Loki licked his lips and opened his mouth to speak again, but Heimdall continued. "You think you can deceive me? I, who watch all? I, who can sense the flapping of a butterfly's wings a thousand worlds away?" He fixed his golden eyed glare pointedly on them, causing them to stare at their own feet. "Or can hear a cricket passing gas in Niffelheim?" Loki responded almost immediately.

"You must be mistaken, we're not-"

"Enough." Thor cut in, stepping before his brother and closer to the Gatekeeper. Loki glowered at his brother's back, his eyes squinted and lips curled into a sneer. The feel of her hand grasping his soothed him and he exhaled, looking down at her with a small smile. She released his hand and grinned, no longer caring of the implications of the slight show of affection. Now that Frigga would be speaking with Odin, the entire Kingdom would know of their love soon enough. "Heimdall, may we pass?" Thor queried calmly. Iðunn could have sworn that she saw the slightest twitch of a smile on Heimdall's face, but it vanished as soon as it came.

"For ages have I guarded Asgard and kept it safe from those who would do it harm. In all that time, never has an enemy slipped by my watch until this day." His eyes briefly flickered over Loki, who grimaced the slightest bit. "I wish to know how that happened."

"Then tell no one where we've gone until we have returned." Thor brushed passed him, and the others followed, Loki pausing to glower at the Gatekeeper, who did not even wince.

Volstagg bumped Loki roughly and sneered.

"What happened? Your silver tongue turn to lead?"

Loki glared sourly at him, only remaining calm when Iðunn pulled him through the door.

"Ignore him." She soothed. He nodded stiffly.

As they entered the Observatory, standing to enter the Bifrost, Heimdall followed, giving them words of caution, setting them up for departure.

"Be warned. I will honour my sworn oath to protect this Realm as its Gatekeeper. If your return threatens the safety of Asgard, the Bifrost will remain closed to you. You'll be left to die in the cold wastes of Jotunheim." Eir-Iðunn's eyes widened at the words, suddenly feeling very uneasy. Thor's smug response made her all the more nervous.

"I have no plans to die today." Again, there was that brief twist of a smile on Heimdall's face.

"None do."

Before she knew what was happening, she was sucked so quickly into twists and flashes of dazzling colour, her stomach flipping at the sickly sensation, which vanished with a thud. The chill the coated her was more cold than anything she had ever felt in her life, and she was grateful for the furs Loki had insisted she wear.

"Loki?" He looked to her as the others took in the vast expanse of land. "Do you feel how cold it is?" He wrapped his arms around her in a brief hug.

"A little."

She didn't have time to ponder his statement before a voice boomed around them.

"I know who you are, Odinson." They raised their eyes to meet the Jotun King. Loki clutched her protectively.

"Laufey." He mumbled under his breath.

Iðunn was fearful, he could feel the terror radiating off of her, and wished he had forced her to stay behind. The conversation that passed between Thor and the King fell on deaf ears as he held her close, mutterings words of reassurance that all would be well, until a particular line spoken by the Jotun caught his attention.

"And why have you come here? To make peace? You long for battle. You crave it. I see you for what you are, Thor Odinson. Nothing but a boy, trying to prove himself a man." He immediately left her side to stand with his brother, fearing his brash reaction. Sif, he noticed gratefully, took his place beside Iðunn.

"This boy has grown tired of your mockery." He hissed.

"Thor, stop and think. Look around you." Loki whispered to him. "We are outnumbered."

"Know your place, brother." Thor snarled. Loki bristled at that, but said nothing, a quarrel between them was the last thing they needed right now.

"You should listen to his counsel." Laufey retorted. Clearly he had heard Loki's words. "You know not what your actions would unleash." He looked to Loki, the Frost Giant smirking. Loki felt the gaze burning him and for once had to look away for his own sanity. "But I do. Go now, while I still allow it."

Loki clutched Thor's wrist and tugged gently, addressing Laufey.

"We will accept your most gracious offer." He headed to Iðunn, grinning. "See? I told you all would be well."

"Run back home, little Princess." Loki whipped his head up at the Frost Giant's words, his face paling, Thor's face changing from furious to gleeful. "Damn."

Mjolnir sailed through the air, smacking the King straight in his stomach. The Frost Giants roared and charged for the group, who drew their weapons and engaged in battle. Iðunn screamed when a Frost Giant lunged for her, but Loki pulled her aside before it could touch her. Dragging her away quickly, he hid her inside a nearby crevice, praying to the Norns she would be safe there. "Stay here!"

"Loki-"

"For once, _listen_ to me!" He yelled, shaking her. "I won't see you hurt." He left her there, running back into the fray. He caught a pained cry from Volstagg.

"Don't let them touch you!" He pondered for a moment as he sent out a duplicate of himself to distract a Jotun, sending them hurtling over a precipice when they dove for him. He chuckled and spun, fighting hard amongst his brother and friends. Impaling a Frost Giant with daggers, he is horrified when it grips the bare skin of his wrists, but instead of feeling any pain, his skin begins to turn blue like the Giant's. Both confused, he takes the opportunity to boot the creature away from him, his head spinning as his skin returned to it's normal pale shade. "Thor! We must go, now!" As he turns to go back for his beloved, his face paled even more at the sight before him, a monster of a Frost Giant looming over her, snarling as she shrank back, screaming. Thor spots it just as he does and hurls Mjolnir towards the creature, shattering it. Her screams become even louder and as he reaches her he realises why – a shard from the Giant was now embedded in her stomach. She is shrieking loudly as blood seeps from the wound, tears streaming down her face. Loki, frightened, scoops her up in his arms. "Can you hold onto me?" He whispered. She struggles, but her her arms wrap around his neck.

"It hurts!" She sobs.

"I know, I know it does, but we will get you to a healer, I promise, love." He runs, Thor's face whitening at the sight of her. As more of the Frost Giant's surround them, there is a deafening noise and a blinding light, and Odin is there atop his steed, Sleipnir. The battle stops as Laufey faces up to Odin, complete silence aside from Eir-Iðunn's sobs of pain, Loki cradling her in his arms. He heard nothing of what was said between the two Kings, he is trying too hard to calm her, promising her that she will be aright, but as the shard in her stomach melts and the wound turns black, oozing more blood, he is not so sure any more.


	8. Leave This Place

**Chapter Eight: Leave This Place**

"Why did you bring us back?"

Thor's voice booms through the observatory, the others wince at the anger in his voice, but that is nothing compared to the quiet fury bubbling in the words of Odin. The All-Father glares at his eldest son. Loki is cradling her to him still, though she is in pain, blinking up at him as tears seep from her eyes, even Iðunn knows not to make a sound over the King.

"Do you realise what you've done? What you have started?" Odin hisses. Everyone but Thor flinches.

"I was protecting my home!"

"You cannot even protect you _friends._ " Odin gestures towards Iðunn, briefly catching Loki's eye, a flash of anger and pity in his own, and then towards Fandral, who had been injured in battle, but not to the same scale as Iðunn. "Get them to the healing room!" Thor's friends turn to carry Fandral, and Loki follows with her, but Odin stops him. "You can stay here. Volstagg, take the girl." He snaps, and Loki draws her back in to himself, unwilling to release her, Volstagg reaching for her apologetically.

"I must take her Loki, she is... in pain." He thinks over his words carefully, but Loki knew.

He knew she was dying.

He looks to Odin pleadingly, who sighs.

"Give her to him, my son. You may see her later." Hesitantly, Loki hands her trembling body to Volstagg, who takes off down the hall after the others. Odin turns back to a furious Thor. "How do you expect to protect your Kingdom?"

"There won't be a Kingdom if you are afraid to act!" Thor stands inches from his Father's face. "Whatever the cost, the world must know that the new King of Asgard will not be held in contempt."

"That's pride and vanity talking, not leadership!" Odin gasps, exasperated. "Have you forgotten everything I have taught you? What of a warrior's patience, of cunning?"

"While you wait and be patient, the Nine Realms laugh at us!" Thor roared. "The old ways are done. You'd stand giving speeches while Asgard falls!"

"You are a vain, greedy, cruel boy!" Odin countered just as loudly.

"And you are an _old man_ and a _fool_!"

Loki sucked in a breath at Thor's words, his worries over Iðunn's well-being overshadowed by the sheer horror of what had tumbled from Thor's mouth. Odin glowered at Thor, the disappointment in him rolling off him in waves.

"Yes, I was a fool. A fool to think that you were ready." Loki, suddenly frightened by the tension between them and his own fears for his love, who would eb alone and afraid without him to comfort her, and only wishing this to end, stepped towards Odin to plead with him.

"Father-"

"Silence." Odin growled, and he stepped back looking to Heimdall in discomfort. Ever solemn, the Gatekeeper remained stoic, but Loki could see it in the centuries' old protector that he was just as perturbed as Loki was. Odin advances on Thor, who remains sure-footed. The sinking feeling in Loki's stomach turns to dread as Odin opens the Bi-Frost behind Thor and he realises what is happening. "Thor Odinson... You have disobeyed the express command of your King. Through your arrogance and stupidity, you have opened these peaceful Realms and innocent lives to the horrors of war." He watches in horror as Odin begins to strip Thor of all his power and ability, even Mjolnir leaving it's master's side in favour of Odin. And then Thor is gone, evaporated through the Bi-Frost in the blink of an eye. Odin places his spell on Mjolnir, and then sends the hammer hurtling through space and time. Loki mortified, turns to his Father.

"Father, please-"

"I will not bring back your brother until he has learned his lesson."

"I understand and I won't ask you to but-" His voice chokes and Odin suddenly realises the pain in his son, and eyes him wearily. "-she is dying, Father." Odin, solemn, nods once.

"Go to her."

Loki finds himself flying, his feet pounding along the floors as he runs towards the healers, hoping and praying for a miracle, but not believing he will find one. Many leap out of his way in shock, servants, guards, all in fear of the sudden movements of the second Prince, and Thor nowhere to be seen. He bursts into the healers rooms, where Sif and the Warriors Three are laughing and joking, Fandral grinning as his wounds heal. They stop smiling, startled at his sudden appearance.

"Where is she?" Loki bellows, panicked. They look to another door and then exchange looks and Volstagg approaches him.

"Loki-" He can hear the sorrow in the larger man's voice and his fear rises, moving to push passed him, but Volstagg holds fast.

"Let me see her! Let me go to her, damn it!" He struggles and Volstagg finally releases him, sighing.

As he rushes into the room, Eir, the goddess of whom Iðunn took one of her names, looks up from the young woman in surprise.

"You can't be in here, even though you are a Prince."

"You cannot stop me!" He snaps.

"She is unwell-"

"I _know_ she is unwell. I must be here for her." His voice cracks and the goddess is flawed when he breaks down, tears falling from his eyes. "I can't leave her, she mustn't die." Eir presses her lips in a thin line and steps aside, and he approaches the slab on which she is laid. Her breathing is shallow and escaping her in rasps, and her eyes can barely open. The wound has left a gaping hole in her stomach, and he realises there is little hope for her. Sorrowfully, he takes her hand in both of his. "Iðunn?" It even hurts to say her name. "Iðunn, my love, look at me." She blinks once, her eyes opening just a crack before closing again, a tiny smile gracing her lips.

"Loki." She coughs and he cradles her instinctively, her blood spattering his clothes.

"Hush, love, it's alright, I'm here." He strokes her hair and presses a kiss to her forehead that is boiling like a furnace.

"Am I-" She coughs again. "I... I am dying?" He blinks again as more tears fall and he chokes out a sob. She squeezes one of his hands. "Don't cry, Loki. Please."

"I can't lose you." He whispers.

"You haven't. You will always have my heart. I love you." She sighs.

"And you have mine, my love." He cries silently over her for what feels like an eternity, whispering that he loves her over and over, until finally the rasping stops, and her grip on his hand loosens, her arm slackening and sliding out of his grasp, her final sound the noise of her hand smacking against stone.

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

He felt little victory as he sat atop the throne. After she had died, he had marched away, his tears drying rapidly as he made his way to the weapon's vault, the Casket of Ancient Winters beckoning him.

In one day his worst fears were confirmed. The only woman he had ever loved was dead, and he was no different than the monster that killed her.

Odin had fallen into the Odinson sleep after his vicious confrontation with his supposed Father. His words had bitten into the old King's soul and Loki's own sorrow overflowed, drowning all the love he ever felt for the family he once knew, now only liars and traitors.

The next month passed in a blur. In his grief, Loki bedded many a maidservant, their bodies nothing but a vessel to fill and use for his own pleasure before sending them away again, and none compared to her. As another mouth claimed his seed or another cry called from the lips of a quivering girl, so more did his soul darken. Never to love, never to care.

Only to use.

And at the root of it all, one image played over in his head.

Mjolnir, shattering a glass-like creature, only to slaughter the one he once loved.

The only one Loki could blame was his brother.

Banished and powerless, Loki's hatred formulated a plan in his mind, and the only way his brokenheartedness would subside would be upon the death of the first-born.

For Loki to live again, Thor had to die.


End file.
